


My World Revolves Around You

by VirginiasWolf



Series: Life Moves On [4]
Category: Death in Paradise
Genre: Bubble Bath, Crude Descriptions of Consensual Sex, F/M, Implied/Referenced Suicide attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-26
Updated: 2020-04-26
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:33:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23861623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VirginiasWolf/pseuds/VirginiasWolf
Summary: Camille knows that being in love with Richard won't be easy, but she never expected it to be quite this hard.
Relationships: Camille Bordey/Richard Poole
Series: Life Moves On [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1456375
Comments: 8
Kudos: 13





	My World Revolves Around You

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place on the same day as "The Morning After" except with about a twelve-hour time jump. Yes, I did go back and modify the size description of the bath tub because it began to bug me.

Richard almost looks lost as he glances around the hotel room.

  
"You can look around," Camille states as she hastily places her hair up in a bun. She wants to make him feel at ease, but instead he snaps at her.

  
"Camille, you didn't have to...you...I...I'm not so incredibly mentally fragile that I'm going to kill myself just because you left me alone while you were bathing. I'm even stable enough to be left alone overnight, believe it or not."

  
It takes a good deal of energy to keep Camille from bursting into tears at his comment about killing himself. It hurts knowing that while she was living a relatively normal life, he was in so much pain that he twice tried to end his life. Yet she hasn't drug him back to her room because she is terrified to leave him alone. 

  
If she's going to be crude about the past twelve hours, she'll state that they've spent most of the day entwined in sexual encounters. After this blissful culmination, the ensuing soreness had reminded Camille that she hadn't bathed since the previous evening and despite the use of condoms, she is still covered in various inappropriate fluids. Of course, she could just bathe in the tub in Richard's bathroom, but she needs a change of clothes too, and a bubble bath would feel nice.

  
Somehow she had managed to convince Richard to come back to her room with her. He needs a relaxing bubble bath just as much as she does, although she's sure he'll never admit to such.

  
"Richard, I bought you with me because I want you to join me in the bath."

  
Richard freezes. "Camille, I umm...I know we only have a seven-year age difference, but don't think I could possibly handle doing THAT again today without risking breaking something."

  
"I'm too sore for that as well, but I thought we would both find a nice, completely non-sexual bubble bath to be relaxing." 

  
Richard's eyes go wide in surprise. "In your bathroom?"

  
"Yes. My bathtub is completely identical to the one in your room," Camille snaps, wondering why Richard has had what seems like a bout of machismo pride against using a woman's bathroom.

  
"If he hears me in your bathroom," Richard snaps back and Camille suddenly realizes it isn't machismo that is keeping him afraid, but a fear of the man who's room shares a wall with her bathroom, Charles Lambert. 

  
She can understand why he is afraid. Charles has shown nothing but contemptuous hatred and disgust for him, and will certainly be against knowing that Camille has, heaven forbid, shared her body with such a "disgusting, vile" man as Richard. However, Camille also isn't going to stand idly by and let Richard deny himself forms of comfort just because of a bully. He needs to know that she sees him as so much more than a means to satisfy her sexual urges. To her, he is a warm, safe spot to land in a terrifying world, and although she may never admit it, this beautiful man who has had the strength to survive so much turmoil is very much her hero. 

  
"Richard, if he as much as attempts to lay a hand on you I will put him in the hospital. Come on. I'll even let you pick out the bubble bath."

  
At this, Richard finally follows her, albeit still somewhat reluctantly. As Camille runs the water he sits on the side of the bathtub and picks up the various bottles of bubble bath, reading the ingredients and sniffing the contents. Camille does allow herself to admit that this display is endearingly adorable. 

  
Finally, Richard finds a bottle with a scent he seems to like and as he pulls it away from his nose he states, "This one is nice." 

  
A quick glance at the label reveals that he's picked the coconut-scented bubble bath that she uses when she is feeling particularly homesick. Camille decides to avoid commenting on his choice lest he decides to back out of the bubble bath.

  
As the last few inches of water begin to fill the bathtub, they both begin to undress and Camille's attention is drawn back to Richard's injured hand. "Your hand."

  
"I'll just try to keep it out of the water," he offers dismissively.

  
The bath is large enough that they can both sit in the water without excessively crowding each other. 

  
He's still tense, she observes and confused. After a moment he sheepishly admits, "I've never done this before."

  
"You've never taken a bath before?" Camille assumes this isn't what he means, but she feels she has to ask.

  
"What? No, I've taken plenty of baths before, but I've never taken a relaxing bath...with a beautiful woman before, and I just...are there rules for this?"

  
"Richard!" Camille finds herself blowing a strand of loose hair out of her face in amused frustration. "You're completely forgetting the purpose of relaxation. Now close your eyes and take a deep breath."

  
"Right. Of course." Richard complies with the command.

  
Camille chooses to take this opportunity to really look at him. Of course she's seen his nude body before now, but people look different in pleasure than they do in repose. He's too pale and too gaunt. His cheeks are far too sunken into his face, and there is now a stubble just barely attempting to hide this change. His hair is greying. Then there are the scars. The most horrible ones are the one on his chest, from the attack a year ago, and the ones on his wrists from his own attack on his life, but there are others too which look too fresh to have been present before all this. His body openly wears the hurt that she is sure must extend into his soul. She doesn't intend to start crying while looking at him, but she can't help herself. It all starts as light whimpers, but by the time Richard opens his eyes a few seconds later she has descended into wailing sobs quite similar to how she'd fake cried during their first meeting. If Charles is in his room, he'll definitely hear her wails, but this is the last thing on Camille's mind.

  
"Je suis désolé Richard. Je me déteste. Depuis un an, Tout ce que je voulais, c'était te tenir à nouveau, mais je n'étais pas là quand tu avais le plus besoin de moi. J'ai continué à agir normalement pendant que vous étiez coincé ici à Paris." Camille's rambling quickly turns into almost hyperventilating.

  
Despite his normal awkwardness with social gestures, Richard reacts quickly, pulling her to him in the water. She has a feeling he can't understand a word of what she has said, but he still whispers soothing words as he pulls her to his chest. "Shh! Hey, hey Camille I'm right here. I've got you and I'm not letting go."

  
The bubble bath has long gone cold by the time Camille calms down, and she can't help but shiver before immediately feeling embarrassed. This bath was supposed to help calm Richard down, and instead he has been forced to ease her out of a near panic attack.

  
"I'm sorry," she whispers meekly suddenly feeling completely exhausted.

  
Richard blinks slowly. "Why are you sorry? I'm the one who forgot how to relax."

  
He's clearly trying to make her laugh, and despite her exhaustion, it works. However Camille also immediately shivers. "Oh."

  
"Ah. Let's get out of this water." Richard stands up and holds out a hand for Camille to grab before looking around. "Where do you keep your towels?"

  
After they have toweled each other off, Camille sighs. "I think I want to lay down."

  
"Oh. Okay." Richard suddenly looks at his feet as if ashamed. It makes quite a strange display considering how he is still completely nude, but by his tone of voice she can tell he is unhappy. "I guess I'll see you in the morning."

  
Before, Camille hadn't been sure what she wanted, but now she realizes she doesn't want him to leave. She is almost certain that she won't be able to sleep well without him next to her, and she suspects he won't sleep very well either. "Stay."

  
"Camille, don't you...don't you need a break from me?" The earnestness in which he asks his question breaks her even further than she already has been tonight. He genuinely doesn't find it strange to assume that she might find limits to tolerance for him. The last twenty-four hours certainly mark some activities that wouldn't have been appropriate before they took their relationship to this new stage, but she also just finds her nerves so frayed that she just wants to be with him in any capacity.

  
"I don't want to be alone tonight." Camille has now crawled under the covers on her bed, and she decides to use the fact that she can now hide her own nudity to her advantage by giving Richard the most convincing puppy dog eyes she can muster. She immediately hates herself for doing so. What if his comment about her needing a break from him had been an attempt at hinting that he needed some time alone. He isn't exactly the social type, and they've spent the entire day doing activities that involve getting very close. 

  
Just as she is about to go back on her statement and claim she will actually be fine on her own, Richard offers one of his crooked boyish grins. "I guess I can fix that." 

  
After a moment he crawls under the covers next to her, and Camille immediately nestles into his chest, hoping that she isn't overstepping some boundary.

  
Richard sighs, "We aren't going to have a normal relationship, are we?"

  
Normally she would want to tease him about how there was no possibility of them having a normal love. He is just too English, and she too French, but she can tell he is asking a serious question, so instead she takes a second to carefully mull over her words. "I think we both have loved each other for a long time before any of this happened, but we were both too stubborn to admit to it. More than anything I wish it hadn't taken something so awful to bring us to this point, but I also feel as if we would have been just as passionate if our relationship had started back on Saint Marie. We are both people who have to immediately put 110% into everything we do and I believe that extends to romance."

  
"And what happens when the passion runs out?" His voice sounds small and timid and from her position lying on his chest, Camille can practically feel the lump choked in his throat. When she twists to look up at his face, she can see that his lip is quivering as if he is trying to keep from bursting into tears. "I think the heartbreak might actually kill me if it turns out to be nothing more than a fling for you."

  
There's no remark about mutual attraction running dry or worry that he will fall out of love with her, and she feels as if she should be offended that he presumes she is simply looking for a fling. This isn't a commentary on the presumed promiscuity of French women though. This is clearly Richard assuming that he is completely unloveable. How is she going to convince him that this couldn't be further from the truth?

  
It is at that exact moment that her eyes land on a framed photo sitting in the windowsill. The photo itself is a little faded, for it hadn't always been inside a frame, but it had been the first item she had unpacked, placing it in a position of honor where it would be one of the last things she would see before falling asleep at night. She can only assume Richard hasn't seen it yet because he hasn't bothered to make any sort of comment.

  
"You know, I believe the most important item I bought with me from home was a photograph. I bought it so I would never forget someone who means the world to me. Do you want to see it?"

  
"I'm scared to," he admits. Camille can feel the shaky breaths he is taking. Richard truly is scared. He must think that the person she wants to remember is better than him in every possible way.

  
"Hey." Softly she places a kiss on his chest, directly over the scar that had threatened to take him away from her forever. "I need you to trust me. Look towards the window." To further reassure him, Camille plants one more kiss over the scar.

  
After what feels like an eternity, she can feel the muscles in his neck twist as he finally turns his head to look at the window. 

  
"Oh," he gasps in sudden surprise. "Camille, that's a picture of..."

  
"Of us, at your birthday party. I spent so many nights crying myself to sleep while holding that picture because I thought I would never see you again. I have no intention of giving up on you. I know it isn't going to be easy for us to be together, but I'm willing to put in the work to be with you, just as long as you're willing to do the same for me."

  
Finally, Richard offers a small smile before reaching out to clasp her hand with his uninjured one. He doesn't say any words, but the warmth in his gaze says more than words ever could.

**Author's Note:**

> BTW, Camille carried that photo from Saint Marie and placed it in her room where she could see it right before bed before she knew Richard was alive and just across the hall from her. I feel this addition makes the knowledge of that far more sentimental.
> 
> Camille's translation:  
> Je suis désolé Richard. Je me déteste. Depuis un an, Tout ce que je voulais, c'était te tenir à nouveau, mais je n'étais pas là quand tu avais le plus besoin de moi. J'ai continué à agir normalement pendant que vous étiez coincé ici à Paris
> 
> I'm sorry, Richard. I hate myself. For a year now, all I wanted was to hold you again, but I wasn't there when you needed me the most. I kept acting normal while you were stuck here in Paris.
> 
> If you put the text directly through Yandex it will actually say "hold you back" instead of "hold you again", but that seems to be a problem with translating it back into English.


End file.
